Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Amour ❯ Flight Down ( Chapter 6 )

 

Author's note:

 

It's been a VERY long time since I've written anything. I must say I lost some confidence and some drive and getting back into the story took a long time and a lot of hard work, so I hope this chapter is as good as the chapters preceding it! I hope to ingrain myself back into the story with the same intensity that I had when I first started thinking it up. I've got the next chapter planned and (I think) the time to write it, so updates will continue more regularly after this last long hiatus. Please enjoy and please review. ^^ It is knowing that people wanted the story to continue that motivated me to get back into it. Thank you all very very much for being patient and encouraging. I read and reread everything you say! ^^

 

 

 

Amour

 

Chapter 6

 

By Zapenstap

 

 

It was cold as ice in the cockpit, and the insulation in Heero's space suit didn't stop him from feeling the chill. Even the ever-fiery entry into Earth's atmosphere from space hadn't warmed him much. He adjusted the dials to account for the gradual change in temperature and resistance at his descent and scanned the cloud cover below him. He expected to break out over the water and be able to make a landing at the old military space port—now run by the Preventors and funded by the government—just tens of miles outside the city where Relena lived. He supposed he chose the place deliberately because she was near, but he tried not to think about why. Instead, he concentrated on the moment. At this hour in the morning before dawn, with a little luck, he wouldn't be seen.

 

He had spent the last five months in space and the two last days doing what had probably been his most dangerous mission in years.

 

For awhile now there had been some unsettling rumors; his missions had confirmed the truth of most of it. They were looking for him.

 

At 3:20 AM he broke cloud cover over dark water, traveling at high velocity under the dull glow of a yellow moon, the silver wings of the space jet smothered in sooty darkness. It wasn't the same as Wing—no craft ever could be—but he harbored some affection for all planes; there was just something thrilling about the speed and freedom of the sky. A machine like this was sleek and graceful; a silver bird. Flight into Earth would have been better in sunlight, when the whole world looked like a map and everything in the sky glistened, but he had to be careful. There was no telling exactly how far things were spread, or if there was someone on the alert even now for a single-pilot space jet entering Earth's atmosphere.

 

There was a search underway by two, possibly three, terrorist organizations that were usually in competition, the most prominent of which called itself Bright Star and operated in small scattered factions, mostly in Space but likely on Earth as well. The search was for a gundam pilot—or information a gundam pilot could be forced to provide if caught—concerning the construction, maintenance and operation of space craft made from gundamian alloy. As it turned out, they were interested in building weapons other than mobile suits, which themselves were highly conspicuous, but planned to build something with controls similar to the system built into all the gundams, even the Tallgeese. What it was they wanted to make exactly was unknown…or had been until he saw the blue prints.

 

Which gundam pilot didn't seem to matter, which put Heero at risk among five others. Thankfully, the communications made between the terrorist groups had leaked the intelligence to Preventor spies and filtered to all the concerned parties. Heero had communicated with all of the pilots, including Zechs, sometime in the last few months. Before going to space he had a conference with Wufei confirming the probability of the most disconcerting rumors and hammered out a contingency plan with the Preventors assuming any of a dozen of the most likely scenarios resulted from the hunt. He wasn't averse to being a messenger to the others since he was traveling to space to check things out for himself anyway, so he agreed to pay the three currently in the Colonies a visit and send a message to Zechs, who was on an expedition to Mars and likely in no danger until he returned.

 

His contact with Quatre was brief, as Quatre was unlikely to be made a target. He was too prominent in the media and surrounded by too many bodyguards to make abducting him worth the effort. Getting to him wouldn't be impossible, but the after-effects would be explosive and high-profile. Bright Star and its affiliates were not interested in making political waves, or at least not yet. Their planning was in the beginning stages and they desired information gathered in secrecy. Nevertheless, warning Quatre was imperative, though he seemed more concerned for the safety of everyone else.

 

As a member of the Preventors, Wufei was just as protected. He wasn't as high profile, but the security surrounding him once the rumors were confirmed was intense and his disappearance would certainly be noticed and retaliation inevitable.

 

That made Duo, Trowa and himself the most likely to be at risk for abduction.

 

Trowa's whereabouts changed frequently, but he was not impossible to track down. He was good at hiding and disappearing if he suspected trouble. He could also fit in anywhere, and somehow managed to gain people's trust quickly. He had weaknesses though, which could be exploited if the terrorist groups were determined enough in that direction. Trowa was marginally concerned about Catherine, but didn't think Bright Star was desperate enough to target civilians, or knew enough about his relationships to members in his circus troupe to be sure taking such steps would even prove fruitful. Just in case, he told Heero he would keep his distance in public, and encourage rumors that he was hiding out rather than living with what he considered to be his family, and pretend unconcern for those he actually cared about. In his meeting with Heero, they discussed the likely timetable of events and agreed to prepare to go under but merely lay low for the time being, keeping communications open and frequent and adhering to the Preventor contingency plan established if anything should happen.

 

Heero visited Duo last, which was a bit of an awkward meeting after all the time that had gone by since he had seen any of the others. Duo had made himself scarce once the rumors started circulating, and he was disgruntled that Heero had managed to find him by tracking Hilde's whereabouts. Duo was deathly concerned for Hilde throughout their entire conversation, and kept glancing at where she slept on the couch, blissfully unaware of Heero's visit. What precisely their relationship was, Heero couldn't say, but it was certainly a close friendship and likely sexually intimate judging from Duo's conspicuous silence on the matter. He kept asking if Heero had anyone special in his life and what he should do to protect Hilde since their relationship was obvious to anyone who knew them. Heero didn't have any answers since that was precisely the kind of thing he was trying to avoid himself. Relena's name didn't come up, for which Heero was thankful; it meant there hadn't been any rumors of their tryst or Duo would have heard something and commented on it.

 

From there Heero's real work began. Reconnaissance took him from one end of occupied Space to the other, and after his final mission into a manufacturing sector operated by Bright Star affiliates, his worries magnified. From the blueprints he had managed to get a brief look at, it seemed that Bright Star wanted to make something equipped with guns that could walk, shoot and covert to a streamlined stealth plane. It was not as delicate as a mobile suit, and suited more for general destruction than combat, but it would be a valuable tool and weapon if ever completed. They needed information from a gundam pilot to actually build it correctly, especially if, as it seemed, they wanted to install the ZERO system in the cockpit. They had years of work ahead of them if they really wanted to do that, and Heero wished he had been able to see more to get a better time frame, but he had come close to discovery and was too disconcerted to stick around.

 

Then, when he returned to the hangar where he had stowed his space-air fighter jet to find one of the hangar's mechanics tinkering with it. The fellow had been just a young kid who seemingly wanted to be helpful, and Heero's cold stare had been enough to make him stammer an apology and retreat. Heero didn't like anyone touching his craft, and was running flight check when he was informed by the owner of the hangar that somehow his presence had been detected and there were people asking after him. They didn't seem to know who he was, only that someone had been looking around and had come to that hangar, but Heero didn't wait around to find out more.

 

Now, all around him it was quiet and still, the water below seeming motionless from a great height, merely textured by the wind that tossed the waves. On Earth, it was dark and he was weightless. There was nobody else in the air, not even a bird, and he would soon be landing. He had returned safely.

 

Would he visit her? It was an idle thought. He never seemed to know before it happened, as if the decision was arbitrary, at least in his head, and it was important to keep it that way. It had been months since he had last seen Relena, and there was no telling how things may have changed. He knew how she kept busy—there was a constant stream of intelligence in Space regarding the affairs of the ESUN—but he hadn't heard anything in particular about men in her life since Balen. It was unclear if her availability pleased him. The public was starting to talk about the Vice Foreign Minister's prospects of settling down and having a family, and he couldn't fit into that vision, not politically and not personally. Still, he found himself thinking about her, and found comfort, even pleasure, in those thoughts.

 

While making preparations to land, he was seized by a sudden chill.

 

Something was wrong with the plane.

 

He knew it intuitively. There was change of performance in the aircraft itself, and a moment later, the starboard overheat light came on. His memory cycled back, piecing together in scraps of insight what he had seen of what that young mechanic had been doing in the hangar. It seemed his young, innocent mechanic had some not-so-innocent affiliations. That explained how Bright Star knew that someone had been lurking around their facility.

 

He determined a course of action and calmly and quickly radioed the tower.

 

“Mayday. Mayday. This is 501.”

 

“Roger that, 501. Switch button four.”

 

Heero immediately changed frequencies and found himself talking to Sally Po. He could only figure that she had been at hand the moment he radioed in; he knew she was aware of his identity because he had told her his flight number and the barest sketch of his plans in keeping his promise to Relena. His surprise at hearing her was brief and did not enter his voice as he relayed in clear, simplified terms, his coordinates and situation. He was in sight of the landing strip, but his engines were overheating and he was not sure he had time to land before something blew.

 

“501, shut down the engines, nose down, and prepare to eject,” Sally told him. “We'll pick you up in the water.”

 

The fire light issued warning mid-transmission, followed almost immediately by the port engine overheat. Heero didn't have time to react. A small explosion rocked the plane, jarring his body from knees to shoulders. He slammed backward into the seat and he gritted his teeth in pain as the restraints cut into his skin and his breath left his body. His gloved hands clenching at the controls until they ached, but the plane failed to respond. The nose dipped in midair and the entire body of the plane began shaking as if it would shake apart.

 

“501! Do you copy?” The transmission was filled with static, but he heard it. “We can see you from the flight tower. You're on fire. Repeat. You're on fire! Eject!”

 

Heero surveyed with calm determination that the force of the explosion had wedged his seat in such a way that if he ejected, parts of his body might very well be left behind in the plane. “Tower, this is 501. The ejection mechanism is not an option, but I'm still going to bail. I'll see you in the water.”

 

He didn't wait for a response. He had only seconds to act. Feeling neither hesitation nor fear, he punched the release for the canopy and felt it rip off above his head and spiral chaotically corner over corner away from the plane. The wind rushed in, and with it a roar like nothing that could be described under heaven. Careful of his position, he unbuckled the seatbelt that harnessed his body into the cockpit and braced himself for a jolt of air roughly comparable to the force of five tornados to pull him out of the plane.

 

He was seconds too slow. At the same time the seatbelt released, flames engulfed the cockpit.

 

He felt the heat on his back, followed by scorching flames searing him from behind. Seconds only and his body was propelled up and over the cockpit. He fell sideways, the force of the wind carrying him out and away from the plane in a mad spiral and then dropping him suddenly like a rock. A hollow boom sounded in his ears, and as he plummeted toward the sea he caught a snatch of the explosion from the corner of his eye, the orange light a dazzling firework in the night. A glimpse only and he released his parachute, the rip cord snapping the mechanism open and the unfolding cloth jerking him upward our of his dive in a gust of air.

 

As the water came up to meet him, he realized suddenly that he was on fire, and that the parachute was going to catch. There was nothing he could do. The last thing he saw before the lines connecting him to the parachute burnt through was the shape of the clouds overhead in the darkness, and then an image of Relena's face.

 

 

*****

 

 

Relena couldn't sleep. She awoke before the dawn from nightmares she couldn't remember and lay awake unable to feel easy. She showered before first light graced the edges of the city and sat on the padded windowsill in her sitting room with a stack of papers she had meant to put off until Sunday.

 

She had trouble concentrating, and it showed in the sluggish pace at which she read and marked papers for necessary changes. Frequently she caught herself staring through the window, counting shapes in the dark clouds over the sea and staring at the image the window reflected back at herself: a young woman garbed in a white dress with loose sleeves, a belted waist and a flowing skirt. She was barefoot and her hair was loose around her shoulders, yet despite the airy casualness of her dress, her expression was severe enough for a funeral. She couldn't shake an unexplainable apprehension that something was wrong in the world.

 

It was still early when Candace Mae brought her the phone. She was surprised, and apprehensive, yet somehow she expected it.

 

“Who is it?” she asked her house manager, taking the receiver and setting down her pen.

 

“Emergency call,” Candace Mae said in a soft, clipped voice. “From the hospital. It's a woman called Sally Po.”

 

Relena stared and said nothing. The phone was cool and solid in her hand, but for a moment she couldn't feel it. She dismissed Candace Mae with a wave and the older woman glided away, closing the French doors and leaving Relena alone in her sitting room.

 

She raised the phone slowly to her ear and sat up straight, swallowing hard before she could speak. “This is Relena.”

 

“Vice Foreign Minister Darilan? It's Sally Po. There's been an incident requiring your attention, in person preferably. Is it possible for you to make it to the military hospital today?”

 

Relena's throat closed, cutting off her wind and her ability to speak. She noticed abstractedly that for the last twenty pages of her report she had been making marks in blue instead of red. If Sally was calling…

 

“Vice Minister?”

 

“Yes,” she said, and shook her head to clear it. “Yes. I can make it. Tell me, please. Is it…?”

 

She was cut off before she could utter the name that resounded in her head like a gong. “Thank you, Vice Minister. The sooner the better. We apologize to interfere in your work, but we think you had better be informed of this in person.”

 

When Relena hung up, she didn't know what to do. Her chest felt tight and the rest of her seemed to flutter and shake. Sally had spoken so formally that the information must be sensitive, which meant it would be prudent to keep quiet about the details until she arrived. It had to be about Heero. She couldn't think of anything else that would require her attention in person. A call from the military hospital. Was he back from his mission then? Injured? What if he was dead? What if he was dying and time was an issue?

 

She had put on white slipper shoes and a coat and was calling for her driver before she could remember rising from her seat.

 

In the car she couldn't stop thinking and was in no mood for conversation. Her driver sensed it and said nothing. It had been many months since she had found herself on Heero's doorstep in the rain, and she not had any word from him since. She had been anxious, relieved, embarrassed, wistful and even angry now and again during his absence, but whatever thoughts she had had during that time evaporated in the sudden fear that he might dead or dying or grievously injured. She might not know what they were or had together, she might even want to keep her distance on a personal level, but if something had happened to him she wanted to be by his side. Was he at the hospital or were they just asking her to come there because it was a secure location and a good excuse to meet with her for some kind of debrief?

 

At the hospital, she left her driver with instructions to go where he pleased and wait for her to call, and nearly ran to the lobby. Her dress slippers were thin and the hospital tiles cold and hard under the soles of her feet. They made little impact, but even that small noise sounded hollow and desperate. She kept her white coat wrapped tight and closed to trap in warmth and pulled the wide hood over her head to conceal her face just in case she should draw attention. She did not speak or respond to the receptionist, but instead waited near the doors that led into the hospital as she had been instructed.

 

At length, Sally came to greet her, taking her hands in friendly affection and guiding her past the double doors and into the winding hallways of the small, military hospital. Once they were beyond the lobby, Sally led her into a small room to one side with one door and no windows. The walls were blank. There was a desk and two chairs and nothing else except a fake plant in the corner.

 

“This is secure,” Sally said once the door was shut. “Relena…”

 

“Is it Heero?” she asked, throwing back her hood. “Is he alive? What happened?”

 

“He's alive,” Sally assured her. “He's taken injury, but he's very much alive. He's currently resting. All together, he's pretty lucky. Or perhaps charmed. It's hard to tell with him.”

 

When she felt air enter her lungs she breathed deeply. “What happened?”

 

“His aircraft caught fire and his back was scalded by the flames. The burns are deep second degree and have been treated, but they require at least a few days hospitalization. He should make a complete recovery with time and treatment, perhaps with some scarring, but he will need a place to stay where he can recover for a few weeks. It will help to have someone to look after him and continue his treatment from home. I know you and Heero haven't had much contact in the past few years, but I know you care for him and he did tell me to inform you if anything should happen to him. I thought that perhaps…”

 

“I can take care of him,” Relena agreed without hesitation. She had listened with a mixture of relief and horror as Sally explained. She imagined what Heero would say and steeled herself, grimacing slightly and glaring at nothing. “He may not like it, though.”

 

“Perhaps not, but he can't stay here for long and I doubt he has anywhere else to go. I know he trusts you, though he might worry for your safety. I'm not sure what happened to bring this about, but it would be safer to move him some place less conspicuous than a military hospital. Luckily, I don't think your connection to him from the past is known and I have made up some false records to explain some things if there is trouble.”

 

“No one even knows I'm here except my driver and my house manager, but they can be trusted,” Relena said quickly, wondering what Sally knew, if anything, about how intimate her connection with Heero had become in the last year. They had kept very quiet about their personal connection, even when they had been in the façade of a relationship years ago; it was likely she knew little or nothing about it. “I can arrange to come back as often as needed. I can take care of everything.” She didn't know herself how to define her relationship with Heero now, but she was determined to see him comfortable and cared for, and she knew what he would do left to his own devices. “Can I see him?”

 

Sally nodded and opened the door for her.

 

She was led down a long hallway of clean tiles and blank walls, and the beat of her heart sound like a drum in the silence. Her face she had schooled to stillness, and her hands were easy at her sides as she walked, the perfect picture of composure. Sally turned her head to smile at her reassuringly when they reached what she assumed to be the door to Heero's room, and Relena lifted her chin bravely, fighting the weakness in her breast.

 

The room was small and sterile. The floor was slept clean and nothing adorned the walls, not even a medical chart or a clock. There was a window on one side of the room, but the glass was etched to obscure visibility in as well as out, and there were no blinds or curtains or even a shelf. The only furniture was the hospital bed with the IV stand beside it, and one chair by the wall.

 

Heero lay in the bed, an IV needle in the vein on the underside of his left arm and bandages wrapped around his bare torso. His hair was damp with sweat and his eyes were closed, but she knew he was awake.

 

Her horror at seeing him feverish and wrapped in bandages was mixed with her relief that he was alive and his injuries well-tended. She wondered if he felt pain from the burns under the bandages, if the skin was raw and blistered and aching, or if the nerve endings had been seared to nothing. She knew he wouldn't tell her either way, and likely wouldn't show pain if he felt it.

 

As Sally shut the door, Heero opened his eyes. He looked first at Sally and then at her, his expression a mask she couldn't read, but his eyes lingered on her.

 

“What is she doing here?” he asked Sally. There was no condescension in his tone that she could detect, but there was something challenging about the question, and Relena smiled a small, sad smile to hear it. If he was healthy enough to argue, surely he was all right.

 

“You're going to be staying with her,” Sally said lightly, and ignored the way his eyes narrowed slightly. “We'll keep you here a few days to make sure you are healing properly and then we'll dismiss you to this young lady's care. We'll give her thorough instructions on how to tend to your bandages. You'll have to have them daily for several weeks.”

 

If Relena could imagine Heero looking… surly, she would have applied it to him at that moment. His eyebrows drew into something of a scowl that had more irritation that venom in it, but he didn't make any vocal objection. All he did was look away. She could only conclude that he must be in pain, and knew he needed tending.

 

Her heart trembled as she approached the bed, and she folded her hands in front of her when she was close.

 

“I know you can take care of yourself, Heero,” she said. “I'm sure you could wrap your own bandages and mend by yourself without help from anyone, but all the same I would be happy to have you stay with me. I would like to care for you, if you wouldn't mind it. It will only be for a few weeks and I'm sure you would benefit from clean linens and prepared meals and a safe place to rest so you can heal properly.”

 

Heero didn't say anything for a long while, and after a minute of waiting, Relena turned to Sally and asked if she wouldn't mind leaving them to talk for a little while alone. Sally eyed Heero around Relena's shoulder, evaluating his taciturn expression, and shook her head ruefully. With a nod to Relena that might have been a good luck, Sally excused herself, shutting the door behind her. Once she was gone, Relena took the opportunity to pull the chair up beside the bed.

 

She sat down and looked at Heero with her hands folded in her lap. He was undressed under the covers, the lines of his body sensually gratifying save for the wrappings, and seemingly fit otherwise, but she tried not to think about the harm that had come to his body. At length, he turned his head to look at her, and when their eyes met she felt a little jump in her heart, for they seemed softer and deeper than she remembered after so long, and drew her in so that she struggled not to lift a hand from her lap and touch some part of him.

 

They were alone for a few minutes, mutually drinking in the silence and adjusting to the other's presence before Heero spoke.

 

“I'm a hunted man,” he said in a voice that was all the more ominous for its sobriety. “There are people looking for me. It won't be safe for me to stay with you.”

 

“Looking here?” she ventured, “with me?” When he didn't answer she merely shook her head. “Then no one will know.” She didn't doubt that there were dangerous people somewhere in the world looking for Heero, but she was not deterred by it as an objection. Fear could not move her to abandon him when he needed aid, and she had no reason to be afraid even for her own life. In her political position, she was always at some risk, but that had never stopped her from doing what had to be done.

 

He seemed to see the resolution in her face. “You're stubborn,” he said. When she didn't react he added in a cold, hard tone, “It might get you killed.”

 

She took his hand in hers, her fingers wrapping securely around the warm flesh of his palm and smoothing the calluses that textured the skin. It was instinctive to touch him, an attribute to the intimacy they shared, and he didn't try to deny it by pulling away. But he didn't squeeze her hand either. He merely looked at her, eyes piercing now, but not in a way that perturbed her. “Agree to stay with me,” she persuaded. “We will both be perfectly safe. No one will suspect the Vice Foreign Minister to take in a wounded soldier. No one even knows I am here. My personal staff is small and intimate and can be trusted to keep secrets. Besides, no one knows who you are. You will be well cared for, and I will feel better if I know that you are recovering someplace where there will always be someone to look after you.”

 

He closed his eyes and turned his head away, but she took his lack of objection as agreement, if reluctantly given. They didn't speak about it, but they both knew it was decided. Even Heero couldn't argue that it would actually be better for him to recuperate alone in that empty, half-furnished apartment, and if he was really worried about someone coming for him and possibly endangering her, he would have said something.

 

“So,” she began in a quiet voice. “What happened?”

 

He opened his eyes again, dark blue irises drinking in the shadows as well as the light. He stared at the ceiling. She still held his hand, but he took no notice of it. It was almost like she didn't exist, or that her existence hovered on a periphery he gave notice to only when he chose. It wasn't like he was willfully ignoring her; just that he seemed lost in his own thoughts.

 

“It's nothing to worry about.”

 

She felt her throat constrict from the blankness of his tone. She didn't believe him. Not at all. But he wasn't angry or scared or even resigned. He had no belief that there was any reason he survived or should survive beyond his own skills and the circumstances in the moment, and the same to why he was in danger in the first place. It was a hard, cold, rational way to live, stripped of personal values and emotions and sentiments, and what made it worse was how ardently she loved him for it, passionate for the very thing that could destroy his ever loving her in return.

 

She was forced to release Heero's hand when Sally knocked on the door, though she did so deliberately rather than with any measure of haste or embarrassment. He never turned his eyes away from the ceiling until after she confirmed the time she should come back for him with Sally. He only looked her way when she was preparing to leave, and she only noticed because she hadn't pulled the door closed behind her firmly enough and had to turn back to the handle to start again. Through the crack she saw his eyes still on her, studying her with an expression she couldn't understand, but in all its careful blankness wrung her heart.

 

 

*****

 

 

Several days later, Heero found himself loaded into a limousine after dark and driven to the Darilan estate. Relena smartly did not come herself to pick him up, but sent someone on an errand as she seemingly did twenty times a day for various things. It wouldn't be remarked on. He wouldn't even see her until she came home after work, which might not be until quite late. He was fine with that.

 

Relena's small household staff was prepared for his arrival. He saw no one but the driver when he first arrived, and was assisted from the car to a furnished guest bedroom by an older woman with gray hair wound in a bun behind her head and a steady, single-minded disposition. She told him her name was Candace Mae with an air that dared him to shorten it, and spoke not another word to him until he had followed her to his room. She turned down the bed, pointed out the various facilities and then ordered him in a clear, brisk and impersonal voice to disrobe and take to bed before he agitated his wounds any further. He stared at her until he realized she meant to stand there and watch while he did it, and then ruefully obeyed without expression or comment.

 

 

Once he was settled, Candace Mae closed the blinds and curtains and turned to him with her hands clasped in front of her and her expression hard as iron.

 

“My lady Relena has given specific instructions to how affairs regarding you are to be handled,” she said. “No one in this house is to mention you outside the presence of yourself or Relena. Of those who work here, you will mostly see me. I've been informed of your name and that you were doing something for the good of our world's present peace to land you in our care. I'm also aware of your personal relationship with Relena. Don't look at me like that. I've known about you for some time. My specific knowledge about you is limited, never mind that I've been Relena's house manager for many years and I was her nursemaid when she was just a little girl. For reasons of her own, which I'm sure are good ones, Relena has never told me how she knows you exactly or what it is that you do. Until now, I could only assume you were somehow worthy of her affection, despite the distress and heartache you have caused her over the years. I hope you prove yourself deserving. You'll find me unpleasant otherwise.”

 

Heero was left to chew on this information while the woman went to retrieve his dinner from the kitchen. He hadn't considered that Relena's servants would have opinions about him, or would even know much of anything about his relationship with her. It eased him in some respects because it indicated that Candace Mae at least was dedicated to Relena personally as well as professionally, which would give her reason to keep quiet about his staying here. It unsettled him in other ways because it was a sharp and vicious reminder that he had, from another perspective, mistreated Relena on a personal level. He just hoped she was not damaged from it. It was more reason to keep away from her, if he could bear to do so.

 

He looked around the room at the white, silk draperies on the windows, the quilt on the bed, the mirror over the dresser with the scrolled silver frame. Everything reminded him of her. Even the smell was faintly floral, just like her perfume. It was her house. In a room similar to this one, he had visited her in the middle of the night and made her gasp and cry his name. He hadn't been thinking of more than sensual pleasure then, but now he sat in her house with nothing to do but think. What would it be like to live in this house with her? In his head, an endless mill of thoughts circled round and round and went nowhere. He found himself thinking about how he felt when he saw her walk into his room at the hospital, the sudden surprise and contentment that warred with irritability about her being there. He thought about what she had said, and how he responded, and most especially what he would say to her when she came home. He would see her and speak to her every day for weeks. So he thought about it, and the more he thought the more he realized he was feeling as well as thinking, and that his thoughts were more than idle and hard to dissipate.

 

The situation was awkward. It had been months since he had last seen her, and what they had done then was a fluke that had resulted because she had been trying to escape other things. He didn't know if she still felt anything for him, or if she wanted his attentions whether she did or not. It was kind of her to take him in while he healed, but that was the kind of person she was, and although she had held his hand in he hospital and he had detected worry in her voice, it didn't signify anything beyond that she cared about him. Besides, his situation had not changed. If anything, it was worse.

 

It was with a mixture of relief and trepidation when he heard a faint knock on the door, accompanied by Relena's voice. She entered dressed in a business skirt and blouse and heels that added length and shape to her legs. She was run down from the day, her hair coming loose from the clip that pinned it behind her head. Strands of hair framed her face as she bent over slightly to remove her shoes, and she tucked them behind her ears as she straightened. He tried to avoid looking too much. It took him a moment to realize she had spoken to him.

 

“Did you take your pain killers?” she asked, meeting his eyes as she straightened. The way she looked at him made him uncomfortable.

 

“I'll take them when I go to bed.”

 

“I was told every four hours,” she said, but more to herself than to him. She couldn't force him to take medication if he didn't want to. He would only take them to sleep because he did not want to be awake all night thinking. “How are your bandages?” she asked. “Will you let me change them?”

 

He had to if he wanted to heal quickly. He nodded and it was with some delicacy that she fetched the wraps. He had to sit up and turn his back to her as she settled herself behind him on the bed. His back was bare except for the bandages and he wore nothing but a pair of boxers elsewhere, though he had the blankets and sheets thrown over his legs. She didn't comment on it, of course, and touched him only in a clinical way, unwinding the bandages slowly and carefully. When they came undone, he heard her draw in her breath, and didn't wonder that his back looked a mess of burns and boils that would heal only into scars. The doctors didn't think he would need skin graphs but the damage was hardly pleasant to behold. Still, Relena said nothing about it, and didn't flinch from tending the injury as she had been instructed. In fact, she was so quiet he began to wonder if she was sickened by what she saw. He hardly heard her breathe, and though her hands were as gentle as he could wish, they were cold and he felt them shake a little as she began to apply fresh bandages.

 

At length she finished, and still she did not speak. He strained to hear her say something, anything. All she did was lower her hands to her lap, and when he turned, she avoided looking at him, turning her head to the side and dropping her chin down to hide her face.

 

He didn't know what to say. “You don't have to do it,” he said. “Your house manager seems steady enough. You could ask…”

 

He cut himself off, astounded when she raised her head and he saw tears glistening in her eyes. The moisture was captured like dew in the cavern of a flower, and nothing else on her face betrayed any emotion he would expect to accompany tears. She raised a hand to her face, covering her mouth as if surprised at herself, and it was clear to him suddenly that if she spoke she would sob.

 

“Relena…” he said as gently as he knew how. There was a question in his tone, a slight upward accent on the end of her name that appealed for some explanation. “What's wrong?”

 

“I don't know,” she choked, and shook her head violently to stop any additional outburst. “I started thinking about what must have happened when I was undoing it and then I saw it and I just… It just hit me.” She closed her eyes and a moment later her head hit his shoulder. She was hiding her face again, and asking for comfort at the same time. He didn't know what to do except hold her, his arms wrapping automatically around her back and stroking her hair until she stopped shaking. She was warm in his arms, solid and soft and real, the softest thing he had felt in awhile. He thought about nothing, looking over head at the wall. He continued to think of nothing until she pulled back a little, just enough for him to see her face.

 

And then they kissed.

 

He wasn't sure who kissed who. Her lips were warm when he touched them, and in a moment, it didn't matter. He was kissing her and every other thought was obliterated by the smell of her hair, the soft touch of her lips and the warmth of her body. He kissed her repeatedly, drawing every sweet, sanguine feeling he could from her presence, and hardly knew when he stopped for air and when he began again. He could feel them both heaving for breath as tongues ventured into the others' mouth and their bodies started to react to the increasing closeness of the contact. He was starting to lose himself in it, forgetting everything except that she was there, and was only pulled back to reality when she ripped her lips away from his and pulled out of his arms, holding him at length with wide and startled eyes.

 

“Oh god,” she said. “Heero, we can't.”

 

“He was more miffed than she could possibly be, though he let nothing show on his face.

 

“You're injured,” she said. “And this is my house. I live here and you can't leave afterward. I…I need to go to bed. I have to get up early and I need to sleep well. Tomorrow is a long, important day for me. Besides, I know how you feel about this, and about us. When you were so long away I thought that maybe it would be better if we didn't…” She stumbled and blushed. “I mean because you said you couldn't…” Now she seemed flustered. They were emotions on her face and in her voice he did not expect to see so casually betrayed. “You need to rest. I can't believe that I…” She got up hurriedly from the bed, slipping her feet into her shoes and gathering the bandages from his bed. “I'll see you tomorrow. Candace Mae will take care of you until I get home. Sleep well. Take your pain medicine.”

 

She turned off the lights and vanished through the door.

 

Surrounded by the gray gloom of night, he watched her go with a feeling of surprise directed more at himself than at her. He was surprised by what had happened, and by what she said, but more so by his reaction to it.

 

Surprising. Impossible.

 

Leaning over the side of the bed, he opened the bottle that contained his prescribed painkillers and swallowed two pills with the glass of water that had been left with dinner. He would have found it difficult to sleep if the dizziness from the drugs had not conquered his thoughts and drove his consciousness into darkness.

 

 

TBC

 

With a threat on the horizon and new emotions in the mix, will being forced to live with Relena in her home change anything?